


Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hand Job, Library, Library Sex, M/M, Poetry Kink, Sherlock's Voice, Teenlock, Voice Kink, library kink, poetry recitation, school sex, squirmy john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock likes reciting poetry while fucking John in the library. Or in this case giving him a hand job, but maybe there will be some fucking in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuinnAnderson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnAnderson/gifts).



> So I started my Shakespeare unit in my Brit Lit I class today and I loved this poem because it's gender neutral, but most of the guys in my class thought it was addressed to a woman and that no man/boy would be comfortable having this written about them/recited to them. So, this is my fuck you to the idiots in my class. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Originally written as an askbox fic for fuckyeahteenlock on tumblr (and the only reason I finished it was because of QuinnAnderson and our shared kinks.)
> 
> EDIT: Thanks to QuinnAnderson for the graphic!! Isn't it absolutely gorgeous?

  


“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” John jumped when he felt the deep baritone caress the shell of his ear. “Sherlock! Not in the library!” John whispered harshly. Long arms slithered around John’s waist as the taller boy wrapped himself around the blond. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate,” he murmured, flicking his tongue against the golden lobe. “Not again! This is not happening again, Sherlock!” John grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,” the brunet continued, letting his breath fan out across the shorter boy’s neck before nipping the skin leading to clavicle. John let out a breathy moan, his brain fogging over in a haze of dark curls and plump lips. "No!" he breathed, coming back to himself. "And summer's lease hath all too short a date," Sherlock murmured, grinning against John's skin. Softly, he licked from collarbone to hairline, teeth lightly scraping the cartilage of John’s ear.

John keened as Sherlock’s hand found his rapidly growing erection through his overpriced school trousers. “Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,” the taller boy spoke, placing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s stubble-free cheek. “And often is his gold complexion dimmed,” he continued, softly pumping the erection through thick fabric. “Sherlock, please,” John whined, squirming in his chair. Someone on the other side of the bookcase coughed and John stilled, adrenaline running through his veins.

Sherlock ran his other hand down John’s chest and swirled it around a nipple, letting the rough fabric rub against it. “Stop!” John gasped, his eyelids fluttering. Whoever was behind the book case shuffled off and John relaxed back into his chair. Sherlock huffed a laugh and pinched the hardening nub. John gave a soft moan and leaned his head back on the other boy’s shoulder. “And every fair from fair sometime declines,” he whispered, his words ghosting over the side of John’s face.

“By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to John’s lax lips. He palmed the shorter boy’s erection before slowly sliding the zip down and popping the button open with deft fingers. “But thy eternal summer shall not fade,” he continued, freeing his boyfriend’s cock from the confines of his pants before grasping it gently. Slowly, so terrifically slowly, he gripped it harder and started pumping his hand up and down the thick length.

“Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,” he purred, twisting his hand on the upstroke, making John see stars. “Sh’lock, p-lease!” John gasped, filling his lungs with air only to let it out in a high keen. “Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,” the younger boy continued in his low, rumbling voice. John could feel the dulcet tone vibrate in his skull pleasantly, giving him a warm, heady feeling akin to drunkenness. “When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st,” Sherlock whispered.

John writhed in the chair as Sherlock latched onto his sensitive neck, sucking on each tendon straining against golden skin. “PleasepleasepleaseSherlockplease,” John moaned between gasps for breath. He could feel something deep within his abdomen start to curl, fighting for release. The taller boy worked on a deep, purpling bite over the blond’s pulse as he increased the speed of his hand. He slid his other hand down into John’s pants and rolled the blond’s testes in his long, lean fingers.

Suddenly, John’s eyes rolled back into his head as his muscles spasmed and his cum shot into the air, coating his crisp, white shirt and Sherlock’s pale fingers. He sat there in a daze, ocean blue eyes glazed over in bliss as Sherlock slowly worked him through the aftershocks. Every few seconds, John’s muscles would twitch and soon he flinched away from his boyfriend’s softly stroking fingers. Sherlock removed his hand and wiped it off on his own school trousers.

As John sat there, chest heaving, glistening with sweat, Sherlock pressed soft kisses to his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead—anywhere he could reach. “So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,” he went on, “so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” John gave a contented sigh before rolling his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and catching the younger boy’s lips with his own. Pulling away, John looked into his boyfriend’s hooded verdigris eyes before murmuring, “I love you too, you git.” 


End file.
